"Greeting Cards"

Written By: Kaeru Shisho

Disclaimer: I don't own any part of Gundam Wing or its characters, nor do I make any monetary profit off this story.

Rating: NC 17

Warnings: Yaoi, funeral practices, AU, fluff

Pairings: 1+4, 1x2x1, 3+H, 5xH, 3x4, 6x9

Summary: Each chapter is based on Heero’s greeting cards and Duo's mortuary.

"Greeting Cards "

Chapter 4 --

April's Fools

After Duo and Trowa left the coffee shop together, I must have looked as confused and disturbed as I felt. Quatre did not look any better, but he had the courage to talk about it. That is when I recalled the wisdom of keeping my mouth shut and locked my jaw in place.

"I hope he gets this." Quatre dangled that half-baked thought in front of us for a minute while he cautiously sipped his hot drink with whipped cream and shaved chocolate.

I could not keep my eyes off his face when his tongue darted out and swept up a mouthful of topping. His eyes met mine and I looked away. I did not need his teasing to make my life worse. He had Duo, or had had Duo and was losing him to Trowa. Not that that made any sense to me.

Whenever I caught him, Trowa had been furtively watching Quatre and Duo with open admiration. He had not drooled but it was painfully clear he envied them. I had thought Trowa was interested more in Quatre, than Duo, though. Actually, I'd thought Trowa was interested in Hilde, but I guess that was history. I needed an org chart to keep track of the affairs.

In any case, Quatre certainly had Duo and Trowa's admiration; he did not need my attention, too. But he was cute as all hell, and I'd never slept with a blond before. Or a brunette. Or anyone. I pictured Duo naked, as best I could, with his long braid running down his back, turning over to face me. I crushed that image then washed it away with an unsatisfying gulp of tepid tea.

"Who gets what? Trowa?" Hilde asked Quatre.

Chang scowled my way but said nothing. I returned a glowering look, which seemed to be what he wanted because he nodded and looked away. He appeared fit and healthy and ill at ease in this convivial setting. Arresting criminals was more to his liking, I guessed.

Quatre nodded in answer to Hilde's question. "Yes."

"Oh, yeah, Duo mentioned that he'd called him; maybe working for Duo, right? That would be today. Well, good. Trowa'd do a super job and, let's face it, Duo needs the help."

"And Trowa needs a change of jobs," Quatre put in. "He's so dissatisfied with what he's doing. And, ah, Duo is overworked."

Nice afterthought, Winner. Shouldn't you be putting Duo front and foremost? I would. Damn. So, Trowa and Duo weren't heading out on a date, and Quatre and Duo hadn't broken up. How disappointing! And I knew I shouldn't feel that way. And that made me feel foolish, wishing for Quatre and Duo to call it quits. But I wished they would! Anyone could see they were a mismatch! But did I want the athletic, strong, and silent Trowa by his side day in and day out? But Duo needed a break! But, but, but...!

Then I wondered if Duo had found my St. Patrick's Day card yet. Ugh. What was I doing? Chasing someone already in a relationship with anonymous greeting cards? How much more inept could I be?

"You all right, Heero?" Quatre was staring at me with those earnest, bright blue eyes.

I buried my head in my arms on the table. I had miles of room to bungle up things completely. I nodded and straightened up again. I had to pull myself together. Stop thinking about Duo Maxwell!

"If he's not put off by the nature of the work or the solitude, then it ought to work out for the two of them." Hilde was staring at me now. "That would give Duo more time to spend with all his friends."

Spend it with me.

"Yes, well, I hope it all settles out for them. I really do. Now, sorry to run off and leave you, but I have a discussion group to lead at the university," Quatre said as he stood. "See you all later."

Not if I see you first.

Hilde smiled and waved then sat back. "I am so tired of the rain. I want spring big time. You must get tired of it too, having to walk around outside most of the time." She directed this remark at the Chinese police officer she had hauled in, Officer Chang.

Duo had called him "Fei" and called Hilde "Hil". He called Quatre "Quat" sometimes and Trowa "Tro". He called me "'Ro." I imagined his lips curved saying "'Ro."

And the officer was glaring at me again. Chang gave me the impression that I was an unwelcome "Alice" at his mad tea party. Time to give him the space he desired. "I must get back to work also," I announced, standing.

"Hold on just a minute." Hilde yanked on my arm and I sat obediently. "I got this idea. See, every year Duo pulls some April Fool's prank on me. Not messy or nasty ones, but he gets me, okay? So just this once I wanted to get him first."

"It is only the middle of March," Chang reminded her.

"It takes planning. And I need your help. Both of you. It's all about timing. First, Wufei, I need you to barricade his business before Duo gets there that morning. That means I need you, Heero, to keep him occupied here until you get the okay. Got that?"

"There are regulations against the abuse of the law," Chang said stiffly.

"You work it out and I'm in," I said. "I must leave now, though."

I did not want to be a part of her convincing an officer of the law to stretch or break it. Besides, she would have a better chance without an audience. Now I had to work out my plans. How could I keep Duo from work? Why would he listen to me? I had no magic charms or enticements.

Hilde did, though. She found me the next day and told me we were on and that Chang even agreed to give Duo my April Fool's greeting card. The card needed a finishing touch, something personal. It needed something inside. A pop up? A candy? A... something funny. I would think of it eventually. I had a few weeks.

(o)

I have absolutely no idea what happened to the month of March. Maybe the rain helped wash it away. Yep, another lousy month spins down the drain for Duo Maxwell. Oh, I knew instinctively that it was April first, but I wasn't prepared for what the day would bring. Silly me.

Part of my problem was that I was off my game. I'd been out late the night before with Quatre watching "films" on campus. We had a damned hot make-out session, but that was it. No way was I getting in his pants. "Not so soon." He had the command of an omnipotent system administrator over his control panel. I had limited user access and useless hacker skills. Quatre made a great friend, but he was coming up way short on my best-of-lovers-list.

So, needy and upset, I had a hard time getting to sleep, and when I did, I didn't sleep all that well. And then I was awakened by an early morning phone call. It turned out to be a wrong number. It had to be a wrong number because the caller-id placed it at the Sanc Palace. Yeah, right. Rather unlikely I'd be getting a call from that swanky place. Still, it was my first clue that Something Was Up, besides me now. But I wasn't paying attention.

Since I was mostly conscious after the call, I got up and managed to make the earlier downtown bus. Not too bad. I actually chose to do that once in awhile to give me more time to hover over my coffee.

The second clue that Something Was Up I disregarded just as easily as the first. My bud, Hilde, didn't answer her cell phone or even show up in the coffee shop that morning. I hadn't forgotten it was the first of April. The day before I'd made all the arrangements to have the official-looking "STD" warning stickers issued by the health department and instructions for them to be prominently displayed on the dressing room doors of her boutique. I didn't think for a minute that she'd do it. I knew she had come to expect my April Fool's jokes. But, she was so late I was starting to think she had fallen for it and was busy putting the signs up.

It was no wonder that I didn't give a rat's ass about Hilde ten seconds after showing up in the coffee shop; my artist with the killer eyes was already ensconced in his window seat. His dark hair was falling into his eyes, chocolate colored corduroy jacket hung slightly rumpled, notebook, pencil-- I must have noticed that he looked more intense than usual. Not much about him got past me any more. No, he wasn't just intense, but actually chatty when I joined him. He wanted me to sit for his sketch.

What the hell? You think that would have triggered all kinds of warning devices in my head. Something Is Up, Maxwell! But it didn't. I gladly posed for my portrait. Yes, I did it and listened to him rattle on and on about the current show at the museum. Nothing was so terribly pressing at work that I had to run over. I had that extra time. Trowa could open and get things started. I had all day, if I wanted.

Okay, to be frank, I'm a real sucker for attention.

I liked the interest Heero showed me, the way he studied me for several minutes before returning to his paper and touching up the drawing. I'm a loyal-to-the-end kind of guy. I wasn't going to cheat on my not-quite-yet-a-boyfriend, but I couldn't help feeling what I felt, and Heero made me feel special.

Just thinking that flustered me. At least he wasn't working with colored pencils. My face was probably beet red. I ducked to hide it, and in that way a flood of clues probably passed over my head.

What did I care? I felt all dreamy and enormously comfortable. Golden motes of sunlight streamed through the window, spilling over the table, soaking into my shoulders, and warming me. Muffled voices of the other patrons didn't enter our space. We were in a world of our own: Heero scratching with his pencil and glancing up at me, while I warmed, melted, and nearly vaporized.

A call from his agent for a meeting (he said) broke the spell. Man, I was late getting to the mortuary! We both hopped from our seats, mumbled apologies, and dashed to the exit.

And then, the threat, the Something that had been hovering on the edge of my consciousness, finally happened. In spite of all the warnings, I wasn't prepared. The back entrance to the mortuary was blocked. Glowing yellow "Police Incident" tape barred my passage. Officer Chang was talking to Trowa.

"What's up?" I asked.

"I've been informed that there's a dead body inside. It's closed while we recover evidence," Wufei said.

"Dead body... It's a mortuary. Of course there's a dead body-- three, in fact!"

Trowa grunted. He may have been holding back a laugh.

"So you are admitting it!" Chang sounded triumphant, as if he'd trapped me.

"What part of 'This is a mortuary' are you not getting?"

"I'll have to take you in."

"What?! Why? Hey, is this some anti-gay thing you've got going? 'Cause you're an officer and you're supposed to protect me from hate crimes."

Chang snapped manacles over my wrists before I could strangle him. "Give me trouble and I'll have them behind your back. It hurts more that way."

Trowa cleared his throat. "That's enough Chang."

Thanks for the support, buddy. "You rough me up and I've got a witness!"

Chang went for his gun. Well, I thought he did. What he went for was a different sort of weapon, a greeting card. He pulled it out of his shoulder holster and jammed it into my hands. "There."

He face wore a sinister smile as he unlocked the handcuffs, and then I heard giggling that rapidly ramped up to maniacal laughter. Hilde. Oh, God.

"April Fool!" she screamed. "I did it! I did it! I DID IT!"

Chang had his hands full subduing Hilde. Trowa ripped the tape off the door. He contained his jubilation completely. I loved the guy. "Open the card," he said.

Oh, yeah, the card. I didn't look at the name on the outer envelope or I would have recognized my name in the same script as the St. Patrick's Day card. Also, I was certain it was more of Hilde's joke, like a summons to court or something.

But it wasn't. The cover was stunning; adorned with a beautiful painting of colorful umbrellas in a grey rainstorm. One, an umbrella of the deepest blue, was off to one side and the owner, nearly visible, stood sheltered beneath a tree. It had a Japanese feel to it. I recognized the likeness to the Valentine and rainbow card immediately. I really liked the card and wanted to lose myself in the picture.

Then Officer 'Fei lost containment.

"What's it say? Who's it from!" Hilde nudged me. "That's really pretty, Duo."

I opened it, caught a thin strip of blue leather as it fell out, and read:

"Don't be fooled into mismatches ... limiting your chances for the genuine."

From over my shoulder I heard Trowa say, "Well that's not subtle at all this time."

"Huh? But there's no signature!" Hilde cried.

"It's a mystery to you?" Trowa said. "He has a boyfriend." The guy was cool as a cucumber when he said that too, knowing full well that it wasn't from Quatre any more than the previous one had been.

"Eh! You fall for that romantic drivel like you fell for my joke, and -by the way, loved your STD prank but it was a bit lame for you—we're just a couple of April's fools, huh?" Hilde asked, jabbing me in the ribs.

"Gay romance completely mystifies me," 'Fei put in.

"Yeah," I agreed to both comments, and then said my goodbyes to her and the smug officer. I followed Trowa into the crypt.

"So, what fell out?" he asked me. He didn't seem to miss much.

I looked over the strip of leather. On the shiny, finished side was burned the word "Sushido." Naturally, I flipped it over and hand-written in tiny gold letters were the words, "The way of the tuna."

He read the notation with me and chuckled at the joke. "Something fishy about this," he said.

I sniffed and tied it to the end of my braid. Somebody knew my sense of humor, my favorite color, my dream house, me. Somebody had been paying very close attention to me. Someone with an artistic bent was interested... in me, and I knew who it was. It creeped me out and touched my heartstrings. I felt like singing, so I did.

(o)

I paid Hilde a visit at her downtown shop, which was enough to find out that her April Fool's Day prank on Duo had come off well. Duo and Trowa had taken it for what it was and appeared amused, she told me, but not in those words. And Duo seemed to like the card-- a lot-- if I was to believe what Hilde told me. "Drooling like a cat with a tongue wart."

While I tried not to imagine what that would look like, she talked more. She did not mention the tie for his hair, though, which was of interest to me. Maybe it fell out and he lost it. No one knew the card was from me except her, and possibly Chang. She had kept my secret, because she understood nothing might ever come of my infatuation. Still, she did not try to discourage me from trying; in fact, I believe she wanted me to push Duo harder.

"His current flame's a burn out, if I get the drift of his complaining," Hilde has said.

I do not know if I did or did not. As long as Duo was dating the flirty, rich, executive-to-be, he was not dating me. And, if I could not be with Duo, I preferred to be alone with him in my thoughts. So, I went home and hoped to have the place to myself.

Dinner alone would be a pleasant change. I looked forward to it. The palace had a full-time cook, so I had only to show up in the dining room and food would appear before me. I considered getting my own plate and simply eating in the kitchen, when Milliardo ducked in, platinum hair, fresh from the hair dresser's, undulating like liquid metal in the candlelight.

His vanity irritated me. I was in no mood to face Milliardo that evening. I thought he was going out. It was a Saturday night. He was always out on a Saturday night. Relena, I knew, was at a party, so I expected the place to myself. April Fool's on me.

"Eating in, I see. I thought you were accompanying my sister to the Catalonia's? I didn't think you missed an opportunity to insinuate yourself into our lives."

I would not be provoked into a fight, not that easily. "You misunderstood. I declined her invitation."

"Don't you think it's time you moved on? I know it must be hard for you to give up such a cozy arrangement."

"You know nothing about me."

"You are right, so I have to manufacture back story for what I see, and that is a good-for-nothing kid, sponging off the goodness of my sister's compassionate nature, who—"

I swung and connected with the older guy's solar plexus, knowing full well that he was a highly trained lieutenant in the armed forces-- on leave, but in shape. That was the last strike I landed. From there on out he blocked every one. I fought hard. My adoptive father taught me to fight and shoot before he died and left me to fend for myself. His legacy served me well on many occasions, but I could not best this man in hand-to hand combat who was a master martial artist and who stood a foot taller than I.

He kicked my feet out from under me, knocking my breath away. Before I could suck a lungful of air, he had me pinned to the floor. He wasn't even breathing hard.

"You are cold-blooded, Yuy."

"I have feelings—"

He pressed his full length along mine and twisted my wrists in one hand so he could grasp my chin with his other. I was afraid he was going to break my neck. I tried to flip him off, but my legs were completely immobilized.

"I'm not... heartless!" I gasped for air. "You... just want to believe that. Go on. Kill me. I don't care."

"I should. I should just kill you right now. You are here to use my sister to improve your situation. You are a worthless little shit. I will not allow you to destroy her life along with yours." He out-weighed me by nearly 50 pounds—mostly muscle—and used his leverage to pound my head into the floor boards in time with his words. "I shall not allow that to happen!"

If he truly wanted to kill me, then that spoiled the mood entirely. I bit back a groan and said, "It won't happen."

I confused him, because he paused in his attack. My head was spinning and I saw stars. Still, I could tell that he was ready for a little more fight. "I'm not after your sister. I'm gay."

I got the reaction I wanted. He rolled off me and shot up onto his feet as if being gay was contagious and acquired by contact.

"No...!"

"Aren't all artists these days?" I asked with the appropriate sneer.

Now, he had numerous reasons to kill me, but I was free and had the use of all my limbs. I rolled into a crouch and looked for a weapon, none, and an escape route, over the couch. I jumped, planning to clear the back of the couch, and failed. My right leg nerve had been pinched, and, instead, I collapsed on the pillows. He was laughing his ass off.

"You're GAY! Oh, ho hoooo! Damn, heh, heh, that's just too funny, heh, heh..."

Relena chose that time to come home. "The party was a bore." I could have told her it would be. I probably did. I would have gloated now, had I not just had my ass kicked by her brother and been face down on the couch.

"Milli? Is that you? Oh, Heero, you're home, too! How perfect? Milliardo, what is your problem?"

Hoping the man would asphyxiate himself while choking on his spit sadly did not make it happen.

"Dear God, Relena... sister-dear, you have to hear this."

She looked put out to have to listen to him. I did not blame her. I respected her pluck, at times. I stood and re-routed my retreat path.

"How much did you have to drink with dinner?" she asked him.

I groaned with the pain from a bruised chest, head, and lack of dinner.

"You, too? You boys go on a drunk when I'm out? You are no fun at all!"

"Relena, now this is serious business." Milliardo snickered, broke apart, and fell to his knees, laughing.

"You are stoned. I will have nothing more to say to you--"

I had worked my way around the back of the couch using a stiff sideways movement and was halfway to the door when she turned on me. "He didn't compel you to use drugs, now, did he? Milliardo, if you've corrupted my dear Heero—"

"No chance of that!" he barked. "He's gay! He fucks little boys!"

Not true! I was gay, but I had not fucked anyone and I was not attracted to younger boys. I was insulted and humiliated.

Some people are alive only because it is illegal to kill them. Milliardo is one of those people. And for a moment, I think Relena and I were in complete agreement on that matter.

Relena's faced darkened to plumy wine red and she dropped her purse in the doorway. I felt the earth quake. I wondered why she needed to carry ballast with her. Was she so light headed she was afraid she would blow away without the added weight? I was probably concussed.

"Language like that has no place in the palace."

Her voice scared the shit out of me, figuratively. The piercing quality of the tone damaged my mind further. Suddenly, the door appeared further away than in reality. My head pounded in time with my heartbeat, but I knew I would soon escape. Stepping deftly over her purse must have set off a magic tripwire, however, because her damned cell phone tingled and made her turn and catch me in the act of retreating.

"We are not done here. Just one minute, both of you!"

I wimped out and obeyed. She had that effect on me. I would have to explain.

"Explain, somebody," she said.

"It's true." I sighed.

I said that much without hesitation. It had the benefit of being itself "the truth" and lacking any sensitive words, or many words at all. It was not deep, soul-searching, or, sadly, effective.

"Don't you think the joke has gone... far... enough?" she asked in measured words. I'd say she was tired of it all. I was too. Her brother on the other hand was not.

"No joke can!" he snorted into his hand.

"Can what?" Relena had a limited sense of humor and no appreciation for the absurd.

"What you said: can go far enough." He was once again overcome with mirth.

She stomped her foot with ill-concealed irritation. "You know what I meant! It's a little late in the day for April Fool's jokes and I thought we were all too adult for pranks. But I'm willing to forgive and forget this ever happened." Her smile spread, stretched and strained thin as size small tights over a queen, (not that I had had any personal experience with getting into tights.)

Milliardo wiped his eyes with a silk handkerchief. "You must see the humor in all this. He doesn't want you. Hell, he's probably more interested in me!" This tickled his funny bone and sent him into another laughing fit.

"I—" I began but..., but how should I put this? What could I say? I did not date anyone, irrespective of his or her sex. I liked females and males equally, except when I thought about undressing one or kissing one. But I had not undressed or kissed anyone. How could I look her in the eye and admit I was secretly attracted to someone else almost as pretty as she, but male? I had not even the courage to tell him!

"Oh, drop the act. So, you showed poor taste trying to pull off a very bad April Fool's Day joke. I'm disappointed. Gay, my foot. (Her foot?) Love is beautiful. It should be honored not made fun of. And to joke about being queer? Those poor human beings are so confused."

Relena offered me (I think not deliberately) a deprecating smile, which shook me to my core. I located my balls and my voice. "The only queer people I know of are those who haven't found anyone to love," I said.

Point made and not interested in any more verbal or physical jousting, I strode out of the room. I would suck up my pain and eat out. Even if Milliardo had broken both my legs, I would have marched out of that place.

As habit would have it, my getaway took me into the neighborhood of Maxwell's Mortuary. Was I hoping to run into Duo leaving the place late? Well, I did fall into step with his new assistant, Trowa, a few blocks away.

"Yo."

"Hi," I said.

"Duo's out with Quatre," he informed me.

I shrugged, pretending it did not matter.

"Want a bite?"

I assumed Trowa meant dinner, although the man was dressed for trolling. Tight mesh shirt over tight jeans and a trendy jacket that matched the color of his eyes. I liked it. Was he looking to hook up with girls or guys in that hot getup?

"That was my intention."

"It's Chang. Over there."

And so it was. Hilde's officer friend traversed a path to meet us in front of the diner, my objective. Trowa was first to greet him as he held open the door for us. What I liked about the place was the food, fast and filling, and the pool tables in back.

"I go 'on' in an hour," Officer Chang explained. "I detest Saturday night duty."

Trowa and I commiserated with an understanding grunt. "Hn."

An attractive woman with wispy blond hair handed over menus and took our orders. I rearranged the salt and pepper shakers, while Chang and Trowa exchanged enigmatic expressions and few unnecessary words. Drinks arrived then the food. We ate in pleasurable silence. It was the best dinner I had enjoyed in a long time.

We substituted desert with a quick game of pool. While waiting his turn, I noticed Trowa chatting up the blond woman. She looked a bit too old for him, but that was his business.

Trowa appeared out of nowhere. "Quatre and Duo were here earlier. They're going to a nightclub."

I lifted my hands off the table and rested the pool cue to the side. I would have wasted my shot if I'd tried to concentrate. "Which one?"

"The Vicuna or Typhoon," he paused then added, "or Voodoo."

"There's a hell of a difference." Chang pointed out. "The first one's sleazy but safe. Typhoon's a gay hook-up joint. But that last place, Voodoo, fills with gay baters and haters."

I did not ask him where he got his information. It was his beat. Obviously he'd know the night spots where trouble lurked.

"We should make sure they chose the safe place," Chang said.

That surprised me.

"Corrupt moral values are against the law, but homosexuality is not." He looked uncomfortable to say the word to me, but it turned out not to be that. He pulled out his vibrating cell phone.

"Chang Wufei. No bother—" He cleared his throat. "Maxwell? What the fuck?!"

Trowa and I moved closer, tense, and ready to move out the moment he found out where they were.

"Where are you?" significant pause, "We're on our way."

Trowa yanked on his coat. "Where to?"

"Voodoo."

"Naturally."

(0)

"Duo, you missed your turn."

"Quat, I know where I'm going. There's a short cut to the parking lot through the alley."

"But Typhoon has its own parking garage and its back where I said to turn." He was sounding more insistent.

"Yeah, and it costs fifteen buckaroos to park there, whereas I can park here for nothing."

"But it's not safe!"

"Sure it is. It's got lights and who is gonna break into a hearse?"

"I was thinking safe for us."

"I'll protect ya!" I was pretty damn cocky that night. "I'm a scrapper from way back."

"That's supposed to reassure me?" He smiled faintly. "I'll pay for the parking, Duo."

"It's not the money; it's the principle!" I blew the bangs out of my eyes in a huff of exasperation. "The walk can do us good, too. See here it is! Plenty of free spaces."

"But it's not the right—"

I cut off his whining with a slam of my door. I hated to do that, but my next temptation would be to punch him.

I locked the hearse while Quatre walked around to join me on my side of the vehicle. He might have touched my arm, when a truck rounded up in the parking lot, churning loose gravel. From the way he drove, I knew either the guy was pissed or was drunk. He stopped his custom 4x4 sports truck inches from me and revved the engine twice before shutting it down. Like I hadn't noticed he was a prick already.

When he got out, he said, "Sure took your sweet-assed time to get the body, didn't you?"

"Excuse me?"

"If you're just getting here, you're sure taking your fucking time."

"I have no idea what you're talking about." I didn't either.

"Sure you don't, fucking ambulance chaser."

"What a presumptuous prick you are!" Quatre stepped in to help.

"Ah, it's okay, Quat, I can handle this guy. Excuse me dude, but you don't know me, and I don't owe you a fucking breath, so get something through that fucking head of yours. You can attempt to pick at me and I'll fight back or you can back off and I'll chill. Got me?"

"You chill, dude."

"That's what I thought. Now, we're going in for a drink and some music. If there's a body around to be dealt with, I'd be happy to have your input after I go in and see what's up. "

Unfortunately, the man was off his rocker.

"Man, the bitch hated my guts and sent me off to be in school so I wouldn't get into her business. Every time I thought I could count on her, she stepped off in my ass and told me what a disappointment I was, so you won't see tears here."

"Okay..."

"Are you saying a woman has died in the nightclub and you knew her?" Quatre asked. "I'm so sorry."

I turned and looked at Quatre. He was trying to make sense out of the man's drunken gibberish. I just wanted to go inside. It was the first time I'd ever seen Quatre in this light and his sweet, wide-eyed, sympathetic looks in different circumstances would have had me begging to swing off his dick. But, the big lout was going to kill him if he kept it up.

He kept it up and raised the ante. He place an arm around my waist and asked that oaf in the kindest voice he had, "Look at me and before we go in there, tell me what you're feeling."

"What are you, a fucking shrink?" The man's eyes narrowed. "No, you're both fuckin' fags!"

"Yeah, and this one's about to break one off in your ass. So, shut up."

"You think you're tough, step up punk!"

"Let's not start a fight! We just want to help!" Quatre cried out. He meant it, too, which was the sad part.

"One moment Quatre." I pulled out my cell phone and dialed Wufei's number. He answered and I said, "'Fei, say sorry to bother you, heh, heh... Yeah, maybe, but could you get me some bail money together?"

"Maxwell? What the fuck!" came his startled voice.

"Yeah, I've got a punk here who just threatened me. He thinks I'll back down and he doesn't realize that as an undertaker, I could hide bodies in places he never thought."

"Where are you?"

"Typhoon."

"No, Duo, look! The sign says Voodoo. You parked close to the wrong place!"

No wonder. At least he didn't remind me "I told you so." That would have made me want to hurt him.

"Ah, scratch that. My mistake. It's called Voodoo and apparently there's a dead girl inside, too. Possibly, if I'm to believe the asshole."

"We're on our way."

I wondered if 'Fei had a God complex or multi-personality disorder with his royal "we."

When I snapped the cell phone shut, I turned to the big-mouthed lout and said, "That was your last hope. That was a cop and he'll kick your ass so I can finish you off and do the funeral."

"What?!"

"Yeah, I'd break you in half within a second, but it's my night out and I think you need cop's special touch. It sounds like you need it."

"Dude, a fag's got a cop in his pocket to whip my ass?!"

"Yeah and it's pissing me off for you to continue using the "f" word, so what I'm going to do is go in there with my boyfriend and zone you out. You had the opportunity to not piss me off and you had opportunity to make a difference in your life."

"Well, you obviously don't know who I am."

"Oh, I'll bet everyone shivers when they mention your name. Well, punk, my right hand is the Grim reaper and my left hand is death, so fuck with me puh-leaze."

"I'm someone who will take down your business. I just inherited more money than you'll ever see."

"Oh really?"

Quatre yanked on my arm, pulling me to the door. "This is the wrong club. It's straight and not gay friendly, but I doubt they'll shoot us if we keep a low profile. Of course, it's all going to be fine because we're saving money out of principle."

I shot him a sharp, sharp look. It struck home and deflated his ballooning ego. He asked, "Is Wufei really on his way?"

When Quatre looked at me with those puppy eyes I smiled. "Yeah, he is. And when he gets here, it's not going to be pretty."

"Yeah, in your dreams, fag-boy." Punk-boy knew not of what he spoke or to whom.

"Nightmares for you."

"You're fuckin' close to an idiot!" the punk yelled.

"Then I'd better move further away," I said. I couldn't help myself.

Quat and I moved to the nightclub door and the dude shoved me. I'd been expecting some stupid move from him. All he'd done so far was stupid; no reason to expect less. He shoved me, and smooth as a cat I tripped him at the front entry. He made a grab for my leg and we both toppled with him on top. The commotion brought Quat and a bouncer closer, but then the punk started screaming.

Quat looked up, shouting, "He's coming!"

He meant Trowa, who pulled him out of the fray. I saw Heero take on the drunk dude with moves out of a Kung-Fu movie. 'Fei let him wrestle the guy off me and onto the floor, and then cuffed him.

"Is there a dead body inside?" Chang asked the dazed bouncer, and moved out of range.

"Are you okay?" Heero asked me, as he pulled me to my feet.

I was staring into the richest shade of blue eyes molded into exotic curves. They were very close to mine. My flat world just went tipsy, mountains climbed skyward and an abyss opened at my feet. If I took one step closer, I would fall. "Yeah, fine. You can fight."

"Tai Qwon Do and Jujitsu, but they guy was untrained. I'm not always that effective." He looked humble. "Chang told me he learned Karate and Judo, performs the ritual of Tai Chi to keep him toned and fit, and has a second degree black belt."

That was humbling.

"Thanks."

"You smell good."

Funny Heero would notice that now, but then we'd never been so close before. "Thanks. That's my natural smell."

"Hn," Heero grunted, and then he smiled.

Quatre and Trowa joined us, Quatre regaling everyone with the tale of our eventful evening. Trowa put in that Quatre's sister, owner of the diner they'd been eating at and the blond who had taken their order, clued him in on where they were headed. Apparently another sister owned the Chili's where Quatre worked, or had worked since he'd quit after getting a teaching assistant job at the university. "We were about to check where you'd gone," he explained, "when Chang got Duo's call."

"We coulda taken care of things okay," I said in my defense, "but there was a possibility of foul play. A dead girl. I mean, things would have turned out all right even if you all and 'Fei hadn't come. I just figured the cops would end up here anyway."

Quatre looked shook by the events and not in full agreement that we could have handled it all alone. "I think you did the right thing, Duo, calling officer Chang." He looked first at Heero, but lingered longer on Trowa when he added, "And I really appreciate your concern and coming to help."

"Butting in—"

Wufei reappeared. "That is your hearse in the parking lot, correct?"

"Yes. Why? Oh, no, not a real body!"

Yes, April had one more kick in the pants for me. Hauling the dead woman and conducting an autopsy was a hell of a way to end a date and start off the month. My boyfriend offered to join me, but, I noticed, only after Trowa said he would help with the autopsy. I think it was Heero who talked Quatre out of watching us work and who walked him home.

This made me wonder if Heero was giving him cards, too. I've got quite an imagination. It was working overtime as well.

Chapter 5

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